Three Worlds Collide
by dark dhampir
Summary: What if Harry wasn't raised by the Dursleys at Number 4 Privet Drive?  What if instead he was raised in the Sanctuary by the grandmother no one knew he had, Dr. Helen Magnus?
1. Chapter 1

**THREE WORLDS COLLIDE**

**Disclaimer: **I, Dark Dhampir, do hereby avoy that I own nothing in this body of writing except for the idea and the story itself. I affirm that I will not attempt to sell this material for my own profit, blah blah blah. I can say, however, that I wish this could be canon, but, unfortunately, I lack the ability to make it happen. Oh, well, that's what fanfiction's for, right?

**December, 1981:**

A dark car pulled into the driveway at Number 4 Privet Drive at around 9 o'clock in the morning. Two women in business suites got out of the back. One was apparently in her late thirties or early forties. She had long brown hair and intelligent eyes. The other woman was several years younger, apparently in her mid-thirties. She too was brunet, but her hair was wavy while the other's was straight. Both women wore sharp suits and the younger carried a briefcase, suggesting she was an aid of some sort.

They approached the door of the ordinary looking house. The one with the case hit the bell. Vernon and Petunia Dursely had been seen the car pull up, and Vernon had gone to the door the instant the pair began to walk towards them. Naturally, therefore, he opened the door for them as soon as the bell was rung. He didn't know who the two were, but he knew they were important.

"Hello, there" he said, amiably enough. It wouldn't hurt to be polite, especially if these women were government employees.

"Good morning," the elder answered. "Are you Vernon Dursley, husband of Petunia and brother-in-law to the late James and Lily Potter?"

"Er, I am," Vernon answered, far less amiable now. "Why are you here?" The Potters had been a skeleton in his family's closet for years. Thankfully, normal world was unaware of the pair of freaks, and now they were dead. But they weren't the only freaks in the world.

"We are here to correct a mistake by those who carried out the will left by the deceased," the woman answered. "May we step inside, please? I don't think you wish to have this conversation in public?"

Vernon internally argued for a moment, but the woman had said the (metaphorically) magic word, public. "Very well, come in." As soon as the pair crossed the threshold, he shut the door and showed them into the living room. Then, he went into the kitchen where his wife was feeding their son, Dudley . . . and the Potter's whelp, Harry. Petunia whose favorite hobby was spying on the neighbors, had been listening in on the conversation the whole time.

"What could they want with us?" she asked. "All my freak sister and her freak husband left us was their wretched little- _eep!"_

Vernon whirled around to see the pair was now standing behind him. His face began to turn purple. "What are you doing here? You are guests in my home, and I did not give you permission to go wherever you wanted!" He looked ready to continue, but the elder woman cut him off.

"We are here, because of the Potters' son, Harry, whom you were given custody of against their wishes." The woman appeared even more serious than when she had walked in, possibly in reaction to the "freak" comments. The other woman, however, was staring intently at the boy in question.

Whereas Dudley was sitting in a high chair with Petunia hovering over him with food, Harry was in a chair at the table, secured in a box stacked on phone books. While Dudley was covered in food and was being provided with more, Harry was futilely picking at crumbs in his bowl. He was a thin baby, with bright green eyes and a mess of dark hair. Most interestingly were the scar on his forehead and the fact that he wasn't crying like Dudley was, even though the child was clearly hungry.

Petunia was broken out of her trance by Dudley's cries and instantly began giving him more food. Vernon's day, meanwhile, had realized something very important. They might yet be free of the little freak. "I don't know what to say to you. We found him on our doorstep with a letter from some old man saying to look after him. Was the old man doing something illegal?" he asked eagerly.

"Very illegal," the second woman answered, speaking for the first time. She opened her briefcase and pulled out some papers. Handing them to Vernon, she continued. "According to their will, the Potters wished for their son to be raised by Harry's paternal grandmother. Here is a copy of the will and two copies of a form for transferring custody to Ms. Magnus."

Vernon greedily took the papers. He didn't bother looking at the will and began instead to go over the custody papers. It contained no hidden clauses about paying alimony or anything. It merely stated that the Durselys surrendered guardianship to Ms. Helen Magnus and that the woman accepted. Vernon figured she must have divorced Potter's father. Oh well, it didn't matter to him. He quickly signed the forms and gave them to Petunia who, after wiping her hands off, signed as well. Magnus' signature was already on the documents.

"When is Magnus going to be here to pick him up?" Vernon asked.

"We have been charged with transporting Harry to his new home," the elder answered after signing her own name as a witness on the forms. Her aid then placed the will and one form back in her briefcase. "You should keep the other copy in case someone comes asking about Harry."

"Excellent!" Vernon declared, ignoring everything after hearing the women would take the freak away from him. Petunia then picked Harry up and handed him to the aid, who handed her case over to the other woman. Vernon disappeared into the hall and came back with a small blanket and a set of clothes. Unlike the clothes Harry wore, which were apparently Dudley's hand-me-downs, these looked like they might actually fit the child.

"These were on the boy when he arrived. We have no use for them, so take them away too." Privately, Vernon just wanted to be rid of them. They looked harmless, but you could never tell for sure with freaks.

The older woman took the items. They were barely a single armload. "Thank you for your cooperation. Good day." With that, the two walked out of the house, got into their car, and were driven away.

* * *

"It worked?" the driver asked in a deep, rough voice.

"A closet!" Magnus growled. "They made him sleep in a closet!"

"What?" Amelia Bones asked.

"The door of the closet under the stairs was partly open; there was a mattress in it," the other woman seethed. "They put my grandson in a bloody closet! And they called _us_ freaks! I should press charges for child abuse!"

Amelia nodded. "I know. James and Lily said Petunia and her husband were bad, but this is beyond anything I expected. Look at the boy, Helen! They're stuffing their own son like a turkey, but the barely feed the most famous boy in my world!"

"His clothes are probably their brat's old things," Magnus added, looking at the baby, gently tracing the boy's lightning bolt shaped scar. She heard the driver growl; it was a low, threatening sound.

Harry sat in a car seat between them, looking around wide-eyed. After all the neglect and harshness the Dursleys had put him through, he had entirely forgotten what it was like to be shown love. The lady touching his forehead was sounded angry, but she face was gentle as she looked at him, and when her hand slid down to take hold of his, it made him feel safe and secure.

Magnus looked up at her companion. "Do you think that Dumbledore will cause trouble?"

The Deputy Director of Magical Law enforcement shook her head. "No, Helen, I don't doubt it. Dumbledore won't be happy, but, legally, there's nothing he can do. He probably can't do anything illegally either. I don't think the old man would think of looking for Harry in Canada, and, besides that, and I'm pretty sure that not even he knows about the Sanctuary Network."

"James always was good at keeping secrets. He never told Lily until after he proposed to her, and Sirius was the only one of his friends he ever told," Magnus said with a sad smile. "Thank you Amelia, you don't know how much this means to me."

Amelia smiled back at her. "It was nothing, Helen? You've been my friend for nearly ten years, and James and Lily were some of the finest people I ever met. How could I not help?" Her smile dropped a little. "Besides, you know my sister, her husband, and our parents were killed during the war. My niece, Susan, is all I have left of them. Believe me; I know how important he is to you, Helen."

"He'en," Harry said.

The two women looked down at him in shock. The car swerved a little. "Did he just say my name?" Magnus asked.

"He did," Amelia answered.

Helen looked at Harry for a moment before saying anything else. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you have to call me 'Grandma.'"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, meanwhile, was just returning to his office from his breakfast with the other teachers who stayed in the castle over the summer holidays. As he ascended the stairs behind the griffin statue, one of his alarms went off. The headmaster quickened his pace.

The old man strode through the door and quickly located the source of the noise. It was a special glass orb on his desk. The headmaster's blood ran cold. He didn't even bother to examine the device; he Apparated to Number 4 Privite Drive immediately.

* * *

Vernon Dursley felt like a child on his birthday, one who had just gotten the best gift he could have asked for. The freak was gone! No more would the little brat suck up his family's resources like a vacuum. Once more he had his perfect, normal, ideal famil-

"What in Heaven's name?" he shouted when an old man in a purple robe materialized in his living room. Vernon didn't know the man's name, but he knew enough about magic to recognize a wizard when he saw one (if the wizard was being obvious about it).

"Ah, Vernon Dursley, I presume? I am Albus Dumbledore. You may remember me from the letter I left you several months ago." Dumbledore was smiling his usual smile and his eyes held their customary twinkle. Inside, however, he was trying to determine why the wards had alarmed him when the house was obviously not under attack.

Vernon, however, was not used to dealing with people amicably, and he wasn't used to dealing with wizards at all. "Why are you here?" he asked, his face a bit paler than usual.

"Strait to the point, eh? An admirable trait, I suppose," Dumbledore replied. "Very well, then, I am here because I am worried about Harry's safety."

"He's not here!"

Vernon and Dumbledore both turned toward the kitchen. Petunia now stood in the doorway. Her body was shaking like a leaf, but her voice was strong. "The freak's not here anymore, so go away!"

"What do you mean he's not here?" Dumbledore asked ignoring the insult.

"His grandmother," Vernon said, regaining a little of his confidence. "She sent some people to pick him up. You weren't supposed to leave the little brat with us! It was right there in the will!"

"The will?" Dumbledore asked, for once totally in the dark about something.

"Yes, the will!" Petunia shouted. "The will that my sister made with that husband of hers! The will that said we were never supposed to be stuck with her freak spawn! The will that you completely _ignored!" _

Albus Dumbledore was at a complete loss for words. He couldn't actually remember when the last time that had happened was. James and Lily had never mentioned a will. He knew that Sirius Black was the boy's godfather, but the couple had never mentioned that they had any specific plans for the boy if they should die. "You said that the people who took Harry were agents of his grandmother?" he asked, not certain he had heard correctly. Why would Lily want her mother to look after a baby so late in life?

"Yes, Potter's mother, Helen Magnus," Vernon answered. His face was now beginning to return to its trademark purple.

Helen Magnus? That made no sense. It was well known that James Potter was the only son of Charlus and Dorea Potter. Dorea's maiden name had been Black. Furthermore, both had already died of dragon pox not a year ago. This situation was getting more and more mysterious. "Did the agents of Ms. Magnus provide any proof of their claim?"

"They had a copy of the will with them," Vernon answered.

"Do you still have it?" Dumbledore asked.

"Eh, no," Vernon replied. "They took it with them."

Dumbledore was about to berate the man for making such a mistake when Petunia gave a start. "The form! The guardianship form has the name of one of the women on it! She signed as a witness."

The horse faced woman quickly disappeared back into the kitchen and brought back a coffee stained paper.

Dumbledore was well known for his self-control, but even he couldn't contain himself when he saw the name of the witness. Amelia Bones was not someone any sane person would impersonate lightly. That meant that it was unlikely that the signature was false. Heck, it was even in Amelia's handwriting. This added a whole new level of mystery.

"Thank you," the old man finally managed to say. "This will be very useful to the magical community in locating our missing hero." With that, he Disapparated away, leaving a concerned Vernon and Petunia.

* * *

To Amelia Bones, there was never a good time to meet be interviewed by the two most powerful men in the country. But when a war had just ended and the reason they were there to see her was because she had helped to spirit away the country's hero, it was especially unpleasant. "Professor Dumbledore, Minister Fudge, to what do I owe the honor?"

"Sadly, Amelia, this is not a social visit," Dumbledore began. "We're here about a most terrible kidnapping, a kidnapping in which you have been insinuated, sadly."

"A kidnapping? I've always hated those. Tell me, who's been abducted, and how am I involved?" Amelia was doing her best to look legitimately concerned.

"Harry Potter!" Fudge exclaimed. "The Boy-Who-Lived has been abducted from his relatives by an unknown witch named Helen Magnus. Amelia, you must realize how terrible this is. We must locate the boy before anything can happen to him."

_If I was a Death Eater, _Amelia thought, _I wouldn't wait this long to do something to the poor child. _Out loud, she said, "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I can't help you. In fact, I don't even see the problem."

"What?" Fudge yelled. "The Boy-Who-Lived has been kidnapped, and you _don't see a problem?" _The Minister of Magic's jaw was slack, and spit flew from his mouth when he spoke. His trademark bowler hat suffered bloody murder in his hands.

Amelia smiled to herself. If only she could show this version of Fudge to the public more often. "You misunderstand Minister; I would see a problem with any kidnapping. But, the abduction of Harry Potter would be an absolute disaster."

"Oh," Fudge said, regaining some control over himself. "I'm sorry, Amelia. It's just . . . your word choice . . . terribly confusing . . ."

"I don't see a problem, Minister, because there has been no abduction." This time, Fudge was unable to say anything at all. "You see, the Potters' will clearly states that if James and Lily Potter should die before Harry reaches adulthood, then the boy is to be left in the care of James Potter's mother, Helen Magnus." She opened a drawer and took out a document, which she gave to the pair. "Read it for yourselves, gentlemen."

The two did. The will was perfectly legitimate, with the signatures of both of the Potters, Sirius Black, and several other people, including the mysterious Helen Manus. All in all, there was nothing to argue, except the decision itself.

"I must protest, Amelia," Dumbledore said, before Fudge could say anything. "James Potter was the son of Dorea Potter nee Black. This will is clearly a poorly made forgery."

"I'm afraid the will's genuine, Headmaster," the woman answered. "You see, James Potter was actually the adopted son of Dorea Potter rather than her birth child. Potter's conception, you see, was actually illegitimate." Both men's eyebrows shot up at the statement. "The Potters formally adopted him into the family and kept the circumstances of his birth a secret. From what I understand, however, Magnus was an important part of James Potter's life, although he didn't talk about her much."

"Deputy Director," Fudge said, "I find that story a little hard to believe. As far as I know, there is no family in Magical Britain with the name 'Magnus.'"

"Of course not," Amelia answered. "Ms. Magnus is not a part of a British wizarding family."

"A foreigner?" Fudge looked as though he was about to have a heart attack. "Do you mean to tell me that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is no longer in Britain?"

"I believe so," Amelia stated pleased that Fudge had latched onto the fact that Magnus wasn't British. Actually, she was, but she hadn't lived in Britain in nearly a century. Still, it would have been troublesome if the Minister were to look through the Muggle British archives and find Magnus' true age (which was why Amelia had referred to Helen as "Ms." instead of "Dr."). She wasn't sure, but Amelia suspected that the wizarding world was even less ready to except the existence of Abnormals than the Muggle world was.

"This is absurd!" Fudge yelled. "Harry Potter is the hero of Britain! He belongs here. To take him from our nation is-"

"-Perfectly within Magnus' rights as the boy's guardian," Amelia finished. "Young Potter is not the property of Magical Britain; he is a child who deserves to be with his family. And _don't _say that he already was with his family, Dumbledore," she said, when she saw the Headmaster was about to interrupt. "I was there. Those people were barely feeding the boy. He was wearing his cousin's old clothes_, and the pig is twice the size of the boy! _I assure you, gentlemen, that Harry Potter is much better with his grandmother than with those people."

"But Amelia," Dumbledore pleaded, realizing that things were getting out of hand, "you don't understand how important it is that Harry be with his mother's family. There were special protections placed on house. Separating Harry from them places the boy in great danger."

Amelia snorted. "Unless you announce it publicly, I doubt the Death Eaters will look for the boy outside of Britain. The boy's probably safer than ever. Besides, the law is clearly on Magnus' side and so are the goblins. I met her at Gringgots and the goblins were firmly in her camp. Face it, gentlemen, there's nothing you can do."

"Very well then," Dumbledore said, looking defeated. "I suppose you are right. Good day, Amelia."

"Well, at least the boy's with a proper family, now," Fudge said, as the two left.

Amelia Bones did her best not to laugh. Harry Potter was with a proper family, alright, but not Fudge's idea of proper. She would have to watch out for those two in the future, though. The woman realized neither of them would simply give up and leave Harry alone with his grandmother. Still, there was one good piece of news. Fudge, the bigoted idiot, was still convinced that Magnus was a witch, and it looked like Dumbldore believed she was, too. It was unlikely they would ever suspect that James Potter was a halfblood. Additionally, Helen Magnus had long since ceased to exist in either the magical or the Muggle community. Only a handful of people in either knew that she existed, and Magnus had assured Amelia that she had already sent word to her contacts not to help any Ministry investigations, not that Amelia expected anything less.

Still, Amelia would have to send an owl to her friend as soon as possible. While there really was no legal course the Ministry or Dumbledore could take, they weren't going to let that stop them. Slow them down, maybe, but not stop them completely. Plus, Harry's name was already in the Hogwarts registry. The boy was well hidden for the time being, but he would have to return to Britain eventually. That was when the real battles began.


	2. Chapter 2

THREE** WORLDS COLLIDE**

AN: FINALLY managed to update! Sorry for the long wait. I'm not covering Harry's whole life, so I'm going to skip forward every so often. Additionally, lthere are two important things to keep in mind: First is that I had to mess with the timeline to unify these two series, so Harry's adventures all take place in the 21st century because technology doesn't matter in those stories, but the Sanctuary needs their state-of-the-art stuff. Secondly, I started writing this before season 3 of Sanctuary began, so I'm probably not going to be keeping with anything beyond Kali part III and Magnus' reinstatement. Also, please imagine Harry as speaking with an American/Canandian accent.

****

**Late May, 2008:**

Harry ran as fast as he could to Professor Lupin's office. Rushing through the door, he was outraged at what he saw. Most of Lupin's things were missing from the room, and the man himself was buckling a large suitcase on his desk.

"It's true!" Harry shouted. "You're leaving."

"Sadly Harry, I have no choice in the matter. Now that my 'condition' is public knowledge, I can't stay. By this time, tomorrow, Dumbledore will be receiving a hundred owls calling for my departure. I can't make him go through that for me; he's done too much for me already."

"But you're the best Defense teacher we've ever had! You can't just leave!"

Lupin merely waved Harry's comments aside. "I have to Harry, but, believe me; nothing has ever meant more to me than to hear you say that. If there is anything I am proud of, it is what you've learned this year. Now, then," he said, taking an old piece of parchment out of his pocket. "Since I am no longer your teacher, I feel no guilt whatsoever in leaving you this," he said as he handed the Marauders' Map to Harry. "Don't worry about me; I'm used to this sort of thing." With that, he picked up his coat and his suitcase and began to walk away.

"Wait Prof- er, Mr. Lupin!" Harry called. "What if you had another option?"

**A Few Days Later:**

Harry bid farewell to his friends as he walked through the gateway that separated Platform 9 ¾ from the rest of the world. As he left, he wondered, as he often did, why Muggles never noticed people walking in and out of a seemingly solid brick wall. In the end, the only explanation he could reach was "magic." Walking from the train platforms, Harry entered a dinner and looked around. He sat down at a booth where a middle-aged man was already sitting, drinking tea.

"Good morning, Harry," the man said pleasantly.

"Good morning, Remus," Harry responded. "All set?"

Remus nodded. "I was just waiting for your arrival."

A waitress came over and asked if Harry wanted anything to drink. "No thanks," he said. "My uncle and I were just about to leave. Could we have a check, please?" The woman walked off to retrieve the bill. "Now," he said to Lupin, "go into the loo."

"Are you sure you don't want me to pay for it?"

"We spent an hour discussing this back at school; you're out of a job, and I have more money than I know what to do with. Now _go into the loo!" _Harry hissed at the man. He did not feel like continuing this conversation, especially when Dumbledore was probably having one of his cronies tail them.

Lupin sighed, grabbed his things, and walked into the gentlemen's loo. When the waitress came back with the tab, she asked Harry where his "uncle" was. "He's in the loo," Harry answered, handing over a few pounds. "Speaking of which . . ." Harry grabbed his trunk and Hegwig's cage and walked into the lavatory. A man walked out just as Harry walked in. Lupin was standing by the sinks.

"Is anyone else in here?" Harry asked.

"No," Lupin answered. "Harry, what are you doing?" he asked the boy wizard, who placed his trunk in front of the door and sat on it.

"Keeping uninvited guests out," Harry answered, pulling an object out of his pocket. It was a small, oval-shaped device with a black horn or antenna growing out of one side. Remus, of course, having two magical parents, had no idea what it was. It was a walkie-talkie. "Last chance Remus, are you certain you want to do this?"

"I don't really have much of a choice, Harry. No one else has ever offered me anything once they found out what I am. This means more to me than you can possibly realize."

"All right," Harry said. "In that case, Remus Lupin, prepare to have your world turned upside down." He pressed the "talk" button. "This is Harry; we're ready for pickup."

No sooner had Harry finished speaking, than a cloud of pink smoke exploded out thin air and materialized into a blonde, young woman. Remus reached for his wand, but then realized that his woman, whoever she was, was no witch. Apparitation did not produce pink smoke, and the woman wasn't wearing robes but some sort of black suit. What convinced him she was no threat, however, was none of that, but the fact that first thing she did was embrace Harry, who did the same to her.

"Remus," Harry said when he released her. "I'd like you to meet my Aunt Ashley."

" . . . Pleased to meet you, my name is Remus Lupin," the werewolf said, still not comfortable with the strange newcomer.

"Ashley Magnus," the woman answered, speaking with the same accent Harry did. "James told me a lot about you, Remus. It's nice to finally meet you."

Remus gasped. "James? You mean James Potter? You knew Prongs?"

"He was my younger brother," Ashley said. "Well, half-brother, actually. We had different fathers; Mom had a lot of fun, see? Ready to go?"

Remus held back tears. Ashley looked nothing like James, but she seemed to share his spirit. "Yes," he answered. "I'm ready."

"Grab your stuff," Ashley said. Remus picked up his trunk. Then, Ashley Magnus walked over and threw her arms around him. Remus Lupin disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke.

By the time Lupin materialized in who-knew-where, he was certain the young woman's method of travel was not Apparation. Although this method of transportation did involve the nauseating spinning of Apparation, it lacked the sensation of being squeezed through a rubber pipe. The arrival was far smoother than Apparation, which often left even veteran travelers feeling queasy.

As for the place he had wound up in, all he could saw was that he was in a room which rivaled the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was a circular room, large beyond large. All around him were doorways leading to more rooms in this strange place.

"Impressed, Remus?" Harry asked behind him. Turning around, Lupin saw the young man standing with the woman who had brought them here. Standing beside them was a middle-age woman with long, brown hair and a man in wearing both a suit and a strange, metal harness of some sort. "Allow me to introduce Dr. James Watson, head of the UK Sanctuary, and Dr. Helen Magnus, my grandmother."

* * *

Preview: Nexst Chapter- Harry's friends meet the family! Plus, the action starts to build.

AN: I personally think this chapter was a bit of a let down, but I promise I'll try to make up for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**May, 2010:**

Harry James Potter was nobody's delivery boy. So, when Lucius Malfoy explained that Voldemort had sent him a vision of Sirius being tortured just to trick Harry into stealing a prophecy about the two of them, Harry was understandably annoyed. "That cowardly hypocrite won't even stick his own neck out to-"

"How dare you speak about the Dark Lord in such a way!" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked.

"What is with you people?" Harry asked. "You're his prime supporters and _even you are afraid to say Voldemort's stupid made-up name?" _All of Harry's friends were now looking at him like he was crazy, but he ignored them.

"How dare you say the Dark Lord's name you filth-veined halfbreed!" Bellatrix was now almost foaming at the mouth. Malfoy decided to intervene when she started to raise her wand.

"That's enough," he said. "Now Mr. Potter, the time for games is at an end. Hand over the prophecy now or else your friends will be hurt very badly."

Harry looked Malfoy in the eye and said "You're right, Mr. Malfoy, the time for games _is _at an end. Come out."

Malfoy opened his mouth to ask what the young man meant, but he was cut off when he suddenly felt a strong arm grab hold of his wand arm and a cold, sharp blade pressed against his throat. A cool, collected voice spoke next to his ear, "No one move."

At that moment, no one was actually able to move. A lot of unusual things happen in the wizarding world, but this was a new one for (almost) all concerned. A tall man had materialized behind Malfoy out of a cloud of pink smoke. He was not wearing a robe, but a long coat of black leather, which made his pale skin stand out. His head was a smooth dome, and he had a thin scar below his right eye. His face also featured intelligent brown eyes and a small smile.

"I'm surprised, John," another man said, emerging from the shadows. He was dressed in a sharp suit and had spikey brown hair. His skin was less pale than his associate's, and his arms were crossed at his middle. The newcomer was grinning smugly. "I would have thought you'd go after Mrs. Lestrange."

"I'm not interested in that game anymore, Nikola," the knife wielder answered.

"Who are you?" Bellatrix yelled, pointing her wand at the man with the knife.

"We're people you don't want to annoy." This time, Harry and his friends had to turn around. More people came out from behind the shelves of prophecies. There were four men and two women, one of whom looked Indian. Some were holding pistols with small, blue lights at the bottom, and others carried bizarre, science fiction-looking guns. All the weapons were aimed at the Death Eaters.

"Evening, Harry," one of the men said.

Harry grinned. "Good evening, Delcan."

Ron spoke first. "Harry, who are there bloody sods?"

"Watch it, carrot-top, we're the ones saving your life," the Indian woman said. She spoke with an American accent and appeared to be in her early twenties.

"Drop your wands," the other woman said. Bellatrix opened her mouth to say something, but she was tranquilized before she could say a word. "That was not a request." The remaining Death Eaters, seeing they were out matched, did as they were told.

"All right," Dr. Magnus said. "Harry, Will, tie them up." The two men quickly followed her instructions and secured the Death Eater's hands with plastic cords. Harry particularly enjoyed hog-tying Bellatrix. One of the Dark wizards decided to make trouble and tried to grab Will to use him as a hostage. The next thing the Death Eater knew, he was lifted up and slammed to the floor by some kind of magic. At least, that's what he assumed before he lost consciousness.

Harry's friends, as well as the still conscious Death Eaters, however, gasped in shock at what they had seen. The unarmed man in the back had moved so fast that he had become a blur, and then, with only a grunt of effort, lifted the larger man above his head and slammed him into the ground. They were even more shocked when they got a good look at him. His eyes had turned black, his nails were several inches long, and when he spoke, he revealed a mouth full of fangs and an inhumanly deep voice.

"Now, now, children, play nice," Tesla scolded, waving his finger at them like a disappointed parent. Looking around, he smiled. "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a vampire before?"

"But, you can't be a vampire," Hermione instinctively protested, earning her an elbow to side from Ron.

"Well, you must be the much lauded Miss Granger," Tesla said, shifting back and causing the witch to blush in spite of the situation. "You're partially correct; I am not one of those fanged zombies who have the nerve to call themselves vampires. _I_ am _sanguine vampiris._

"You're only half-vampire, Tesla," Harry pointed out. "The other half is still _human."_

"Quiet, child," Tesla snapped.

"Wait," Hermione said. "You're Nikola Tesla,_ the_ Nikola Tesla?"

"The one and only," the man said, grinning merrily.

"That's impossible."

"No, it's not," Harry said. "He's Nikola Tesla, the man with the knife is John Druitt, who was once possessed by an energy being and became Jack the Ripper. They went to school with my grandmother, along with Sherlock Holmes and the Invisible Man. Dr. Jekyll was there too, but they weren't friends with him."

"You never mentioned Dr. Jekyll," Will said to Magnus before being interrupted.

"But those men are fictional characters!" Hermione screamed. "They weren't real!"

Harry looked at her tenderly. "Hermione, if I told you magic was real ten years ago, would you have believed me?"

The young witch was silent for a moment, looking at Harry in disbelief. Then, she looked down. Her voice lacked the authority it usually had as well as the force of her earlier outburst. "No . . . I wouldn't have."

Harry gently cupped her face and lifted her eyes back to his. "Because the wizarding world has kept magic a secret for a long time, but there are things that have been kept secret from both the wizarding and the mundane worlds. Don't be ashamed Hermione, not many sixteen-year-olds are as well read as you."

Hermione smiled a little, accepting Harry's words of comfort, even though she was blushing furiously at his touch. Both of them ignored the scowling Ron.

The team quickly had just finished tying up the Dark wizards when the doors to the room burst open and Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Alistair Moody ran into the room.

Harry shook his head. "Well, here comes the cavalry, too late, I'm afraid."

Moody chose to ignore the comment and instead aimed his wand at the Sanctuary team. "Who are-" He was probably planning to say the word "you," but he never actually managed to say it, because he was stunned in the back by both Sirius and Tonks. Kingsley went down at the same time, stunned by Lupin.

"Harry! What. . . Why . . ." Hermione sputtered. Ron, Ginny, and Neville all stared in dumb shock; Luna looked mildly amused.

Harry smiled. "I guess I better explain, Lupin, Sirius, Tonks are all agents of the Sanctuary Network."

"The what?" Neville asked.

"The place where we're going," Magnus said. "John . . ."

Druitt was already moving. He embraced her and disappeared into a cloud of pink smoke, then reappeared and grabbed a pair of Death Eaters. He repeated this process until the room was devoid of life.

* * *

Sanctuaries never fail to make an impression on first time visitors-well, alright, the Cabal's superabnormals weren't impressed, but they were drugged and brainwashed; they don't count-and London's was one of the best. It had rebuilt to its former grandeur after the charred wreckage from releasing the fire elemental had been cleared out, combining the large, circular main lab with the aesthetic of a Victorian manor. Of course, the size alone was enough to impress people; there was no such thing as a _small _Sanctuary, Harry reflected.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked, as the newcomers looked around the room they were in.

"This is where we keep the wrackspurts," Harry answered. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville looked at him like he was crazy; Luna looked as though she wanted to hug him.

"What's a wrackspurt?" Kate asked.

"A parasitic, magical abnormal, capable of inhibiting thought," Delcan answered.

"Their abilities aren't as severe as those of an ozone beetle or a scarab, but they're not to be taken lightly," Magnus added.

"Guess you'd be the expert," Kate muttered.

"Hold on," Ron interjected. "You mean to tell me, Loony Lovegood's wack-things are _real? _Come on!"

Harry frowned at Ron. "I already told Hermione, weren't you paying attention, Ron?"

Ron scowled at Harry and then at his sister when she supplied "There are things that have been kept secret even from the wizarding world."

"Excellent, Ginny!" Harry said, beaming at the girl. "Yes, wrackspurts are just one of those species; in fact, all the creatures Luna's father writes about are real." Turning to the blonde Ravenclaw, he added, "Sorry about all the trouble we've given you over the years, Luna. We're the ones who make sure no one believes in those fabulous creatures."

"Not that that appears to have stopped Xenophilius at all," Delcan noted.

"Indeed," Helen noted.

"That's alright, Harry," Luna said, happily. "I think Daddy likes the challenge."

Just then, an attractive woman with long, blond hair rushed into the room. "Remus!"

"Nina!" the man answered, before rushing over to her. To the shock of five young witches and wizards, the pair fiercely embraced each other.

"Well," a voice growled, "now two things have happened that I never thought I'd see." The group turned to see that it was Moody who had spoken. He and Kingsley had woken up and were getting to their feet, eyeing the others wearily.

"Sorry about that, Alistor," Sirius said merrily. "Tonks and I thought it'd be best to double up on you. You being, well, _you."_

"And because Nymphadora didn't want to stun her boss," Alistor growled. Tonks, to her credit, looked embarrassed, her hair changing from bubblegum pink to bright red.

"She's in trouble as it is," Kingsley said. "Auror Tonks, you better have a satisfactory explanation for this-"

"Or what, you'll fire me?" Tonks asked, her self-confidence returning. "I'm planning to quit anyway. Sooner's better than later, really," she said with a shrug.

"You want to stop being an Auror?" Kingsley asked, looking shocked. Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks wanted to quit. For a moment, he considered looking outside, to see if the sky was falling.

"Well, yeah, a little," Tonks answered. "What I really want is to leave the wizarding world."

_"WHAT?" _The question was launched not only by Moody, but all of Harry's friends as well as Lupin. Even Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Tonks?"

"Yeah, Harry. I've thought it over with my parents and Sirius. You know how bad things are for me there."

Harry nodded. Hermione, however, was not so easily placated. "What do you mean Tonks? What's so bad about the wizarding world."

"It's because you're a metamorhagus, isn't it" Neville said, quietly.

"Yeah, it is. You're Neville aren't you, Lady Longbottom's grandson? I met her once, not a bad sort, really. Harry says a lot of nice things about you, too."

Neville blushed. "Thank you."

"I don't get it," Hermione said. "What's so bad about being a metamorphagus; it's an amazing ability."

Neville sighed. "To some people, yes, but others view it as something unnatural. Metamorphigi have to register like werewolves-no offense," he added, shooting a glance to Lupin.

"None taken," the man replied.

"Additionally," Neville said, "my gran told me that metamorphigi in the Auror Corps. generally get sent on the most dangerous missions, infiltrating high risk areas and such."

"The danger's not so bad," Tonks said, "but he's right; I don't get much respect in the wizarding world for being what I am, and it's not just the people who think I'm 'unnatural.' Do you have any idea what it's like to try to get a boyfriend when you're a metamorphagus? Sooner or later, every bloke I've ever gone out with has asked me to change: longer legs, bigger breasts, or even to change into some girl from their past. I'm sick of it! The only friends I have are all in the Sanctuary Network, except a few people in the Order. I don't have any real future in the wizarding world; why not leave it all behind?"

"How did you find this place?" Hermione asked, after a short silence.

"She didn't," Harry supplied. "We found her."

Tonks smiled at him. "My powers began to manifest themselves when I was about 10 years old, pretty young for a metamorphagus. I woke up one morning and found that my hair had grown ten inches over night and was bright red. When I looked in the mirror, my eyes were changing color, and I mean _changing! _They went from black to blue to red and back again, and my hair was _still _growing! Naturally, I started screaming. Mum and Dad came in and rushed me to St. Mungo's. There was an agent there; he told Dr. Watson about me, helped the Sanctuary find me. They taught me to control my powers and gave me a place where I felt accepted. I've worked as spy for the past few years, but I'm ready to give up on Magical Britain."

"And what about you?" Moody growled, switching his attention to Lupin.

"Sadly, I wasn't as lucky as Tonks was," Lupin said with a tired smile. "It's very hard for the Sanctuary Network to make contact with Magical Werewolves-"

"_Magical_ Werewolves? What other types are there?" Hermione interjected.

"The werewolves you're accustomed to, much like the so-called vampires you're accustomed to," Tesla said with a touch of annoyance, "are merely cheap imitations of the real thing. Proper werewolves, also called lycanthropes or Lycans, are a class nine hyper-accelerated protean life form. They don't change during the full moon, but whenever they want to, although the younger ones sometimes change involuntarily when injured. Also, Lycans can learn to control themselves in their transformed state."

"Thank you, Tesla," Lupin said to the smug half-vampire. "As I was saying, the Sanctuary Network has a hard time making contact with Magical werewolves, due to the intense scrutiny the Ministry puts them under. It's hard enough for the Network to keep ourselves a secret in the Magical community as it is, which is why most Metamophagi never hear of us.

After, learning I was retiring, however, Harry made me an offer I couldn't refuse: a place to call home. Here, I am not considered a Dark creature; I am a man. Delcan's predecessor, Dr. Watson helped me to manage my condition; most potions don't really require any magical ability. He also helped me learn to live amongst mundane people and trained me as an agent. I was lying when I said that most werewolves wanted to side with Voldemort. They don't want to join the Death Eaters, but they have nothing to gain by siding with the mainstream magical community. So, I offered them a third option, and many have chosen to come live with us."

"But, Hermione interrupted, "why didn't you tell Professor Dumbledore?"

"Because, Dumbledore is a vile, manipulative fool!" Magnus spat. The "visiting" group turned to look at her in shock. In the wizarding world, insulting Dumbledore was almost considered blasphemy.

"Do you know where I found Harry after his parents died?" Magnus asked them. "He was living with his mother's relatives. They made him sleep in a closet and almost starved him while they stuffed their own son like a turkey. And how, I wonder, did he not know that Peter Pettigrew was a Death Eater, that Quarrel was possessed, or that his 'old friend' was a Death Eater in disguise? Look over your own experiences and you'll see that the real Dumbledore doesn't live up to his reputation."

"That's why we've brought you here," Harry said. All eyes turned to him. "It's time to decide where you stand. Voldemort and the Death Eaters are a threat to the whole world and everyone in it, and truth, be told, there's not really much standing in his way. The Order is too small to accomplish anything and mostly just sits around trying to slow Voldemort down. The Ministry is not only in denial of Voldemort's return, it's pretty much the same; if you're a wizard of less than pure blood or if you're not human, then you're worth less than those who are. The system is essentially self-sustaining. During the last war, the Sanctuary Network wasn't able to do much of anything, but Voldemort's weak now, and we plan to _crush _him.

Harry took a deep breath and turned to everyone in the room. "These are your options: stay neutral, join either the Ministry or the Order of the Phoenix, or join us. What's it going to be?"

* * *

**AN: **Sorry it took me so long to update. I hope this chapter was worth it. The good news, or the bad news, is that there's only one chapter left. If you're miffed at me for this, well, sorry, but the creative spark for this story never really turned into a flame if you know what I mean. To make it up to you, however, I offer this challenge: Write your own story that features Harry and Magnus as family. Based it off mine or do something totally origional; I don't care. Hopefully, your stories' sparks will burn brighter than this one's did.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, everyone, this is it: the grand finale of Three Worlds Collide. Once again, this story is all I own (or else Harry's life would have worked out _very _differently).

* * *

**December 2012:**

A short man with dark hair leaned over a work-table fiddling with several strange-looking tools and muttering to the device he was working on. "Come on, come on. Just a small tweak here, aaaaannnnd . . . _Yes! _Ha-ha!_"_ The man grabbed a walkie-talkie. "Doc, it's ready!"

On the other end of the line, Helen Magnus, head of the Sanctuary Network answered him. "Well done, Henry. I'm sending John to you now. Please remember to grab a weapon."

"Got it, Doc," Henry Foss, go-to man for all things technical in the Old City Sanctuary, picked up the object he had been working on and grabbed a laser gun. Three seconds later, John Druitt materialized in front of him. Henry quickly waked around the workbench and over to him. Then, Druitt grabbed his shoulders, and the two men disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke.

* * *

There had been several times in his life when the Dark Lord Voldemort had been thoroughly displeased; some of them had occurred in the past seven years. The first was when that brat Potter had prevented him from acquiring the Philosopher's Stone and thus delayed his resurrection for three years. Another, ironically, had been the very night of his return; Potter had managed to escape his wrath and humiliated him in front of his servants. Added to that, he had learned that his "most trusted servant," Lucius Malfoy, had cost him a horcrux! A year later, Voldemort had tried to acquire the prophecy made about him and Potter. Instead, he had lost his best duelists!

The past two years, he reflected, sitting upon his throne in Riddle Manor, had been, amazingly, even worse than all of those incidents, individually or combined. Ever since his bid to acquire the prophecy failed, the Dark Lord's luck had gone from bad to worse. Werewolves abandoned Greyback's pack in droves; the goblins had frozen his Death Eaters' assets; the giants had chosen to remain neutral; and Dementors and Death Eaters were flat out disappearing!

Each of these incidents were annoying enough on their own, but each of them was happening in a very troubling manner. Voldemort had never felt the need to keep a close watch on the werewolves due to the fact that they had nowhere to go. The Ministry had practically handed them to him with its constant anti-werewolf laws. Occasionally, one werewolf might try to integrate into the mainstream magical community (Remus Lupin, for expample), but most never bothered. Greyback's pack was the only place where they were welcome, so few ever attempted to leave it.

Now, more than half the pack had simply up and left. More disturbingly, Voldemort had no idea where they had gone; the traitors had apparently disappeared off the face of the Earth. Greyback had sent spies to find out why this was so, and they had all come back with no clear answer. All they knew was that the werewolves were being offered sanctuary by an unknown benefactor.

The goblins were an even greater surprise. Voldemort had expected the goblins would initially remain neutral; they had never been as maltreated as the werewolves, but neither had they ever been totally accepted. So, they had simply sat back and waited for the two sides to begin making offers to the greedy little creatures. Voldemort had been confident that he could offer the beasts more than the Ministry was willing to or that Dumbledore's little bird club could.

Yet, the goblins had surprised him. After the disappearance of his so-called "best" Death Eaters, the goblins had frozen all of their assets and refused to do business with anyone unless the customer first exposed his or her left arm to show that it did not bear the Dark Mark. Adding to his fury, as soon as he had formulated a plan to use Malfoy's son to punish the fool for his failure, the boy and his mother had simply disappeared along with all of Malfoy Manor. The same thing had happened to all the families of incarcerated (or missing) Death Eaters. Clearly, their homes had been rendered unplottable, but that knowledge did him no good if he could not find the Secret Keeper or Keepers.

The giants were much the same. For centuries, they had been hunted and oppressed by wizards and had developed a deep antipathy towards them. Voldemort had exploited that resentment in the last war, utilizing their incredible strength to lay waste to both worlds without discrimination. This time, however, the giants were, for unknown reasons, refusing to get involved with either side. They even went so far as to threaten the Death Eaters he'd sent to try recruit them to his cause.

Which led to the last problem, some unknown force was ruthlessly and efficiently hunting down Death Eaters or attacking them during missions. Sometimes they left dead body or two, but most often whomever they targeted simply disappeared without a trace. This led Voldemort to believe that whoever (or whatever) was attacking his servants was also responsible for the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries.

The most troubling part was that he had no idea what sort of an enemy he was dealing with. It obviously was _not _the Ministry, which was still trying to deny that he had returned, but it was not Dumbledore's order either; Serverus insisted that they were as impotent as ever. Even more disconcerting were the stories the few Death Eaters who had escaped brought back to him: a fast and lethal shadow, a deadly assassin who appeared and disappeared in a puff of smoke, a creature like a man and troll half-breed with great strength and fury, and a small army with powers they had never seen before.

Most exasperating was that it was not only the Death Eaters who were dropping like flies. All of the Dementors were gone. Few wizards were strong enough to repel the foul and deadly creatures, which led many to believe that they simply couldn't be destroyed. The truth was that it _was _possible to kill them, but it was even more difficult than merely driving them off. Yet, there could be no denying that something had eliminated the entire Dementor population. If the Dark Lord Voldemort were capable of feeling fear, then this fact would chill him to his bones.

At any rate, things were becoming desperate. He'd called an emergency meeting that night to try and find a way of ending this mysterious threat.

That had been his first mistake.

Within minutes of the arrival of his servants, Voldemort sensed anti-Apparation and anti-portkey wards being erected, which were promptly followed by a small army laying siege to his stronghold. There was even a Disillutionment chrm cast to keep muggles out. Whoever had been picking off his Death Eaters had apparently come to finish things once and for all.

Silently cursing the arrogance which had kept him from putting proper defenses on the property, Voldemort ordered his servants to deal with the threat. This time the enemy lacked the element of surprise; surely that would be enough to ensure their victory.

That had been his second mistake.

Voldemort rose from his throne, his robes billowing around him like smoke. He could sense through the Dark Mark that his servants were being crushed by these invaders. That meant that, as much as he detested involving himself in actual combat, the Dark Lord would have to deal with these nuisances himself and then punish any still living Death Eaters when he was through.

That was his third mistake.

* * *

For the first time since the fall of Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters were faced with the prospect that they were doomed. The Death Eaters were masters of Unforgivables, and most were competent duelists; that wasn't enough. Their enemies were unlike anything most of them had ever faced before. Most of the attackers used strange weapons that stunned them almost instantaneously, but others were even more bizarre. There was a man who seemed to be able to silently Apparate despite the wards and was literally cutting down Death Eaters right, left, and center. Other Death Eaters fell to a frightening monster with fangs and claws, and still others met their fates at the hands of a strange, ape-like man.

Many Death Eaters were overcome with panic at the sight of these strange adversaries, but some were more adaptable. Fenrir Grayback was one such Death Eater. The werewolf alpha was in his element: sneaking around in the chaos, seeking out his prey. His targets were any of the invaders who were alone and helpless, like the young man was looking at right now. Grayback slipped behind him and prepared to pounce . . . when the young man turned around and pointed his weapon at the werewolf.

Henry Foss gasped at what he saw. "You! Y-you're, you're Grayback. You're the guy who bit Remus."

Grayback smiled. "Ah, yes. _That one. _Looking back, it probably wasn't such a good idea to bite him. Very satisfying at the time, though."

Henry grimaced at the obvious pleasure the man took in his crime. Then, he recovered from his shock at seeing the infamous werewolf to realize something; the man's mouth and chin were bloody. "You, you bit someone tonight, man."

Grayback smiled. "Of course, it's what I do, you know."

"But, the full moon's not 'til the end of the month! You're not changing; you're just . . . you're just . . ."

Grayback through back his head and laughed. "I'm a werewolf, boy! I'm a predator, a killer. It doesn't matter whether I'm in my human skin or my wolf skin. There's nothing else I can be and nothing else I want to be!"

Henry could only stare at the perverse creature before him. This guy made Druitt and Tesla seem like a pair of boy scouts! His disgust was so great that, so his own surprise, Henry felt his horror become replaced by a more powerful emotion: rage. He dropped his weapon beside his feet.

"Giving up?" Grayback asked.

"No," Henry answered, "doing something I thought I'd never do. _Rooooooaaaaaarrrrr!"_

Grayback ferocious leader of the werewolves, a man whose very name caused others to tremble, stepped back in fear. His eyes widened at what he saw before him; the unassuming young man was undergoing a startling transformation. The instant he roared, the man's eyes glowed bright yellow, while his ears became pointed and his canines lengthened. He grew taller and gained more muscles mass, tearing apart his clothes. Most disturbing, however, was the brown hair that covered his body and way his jaws elongated, becoming a snout. If Grayback didn't know better, he'd swear he was looking some kind of werewolf, only a werewolf more terrifying than any known to wizard-kind.

He had little time to marvel at the man's metamorphosis, however, before the enraged lycan pounced on him.

* * *

Harry's curse sent another Death Eater flying. He allowed himself a small grin; they were plowing through the bad guys like a hot knife through butter. Still, it was only a matter of time until Voldemort himself got involved, and then, things would get a lot more complicated.

_"Harry!" _

The young man turned at the sound of his name. "Grandma!" he answered, seeing the figure running toward him.

"Is it ready?" he asked.

"Henry just finished it," she answered, handing Harry the device. "I have the feeling that it's going to come in handy soon."

Just then, an explosion erupted a hundred yards from them. A tall, pale man stood there, his black robes billowing about him. Even from this distance, his power and his hate were palpable. Lord Voldemort had entered the fray.

"I guess it'll come in handy now," Harry laconically noted. Slipping the device into his pocket, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak and disappeared.

* * *

Voldemort strode across the battleground, looking for an enemy to kill or an underling to vent his wrath upon. Nearby Death Eaters cheered and bowed to the Dark Lord, believing their victory was now assured. No one could stand against Lord Voldemort, _no one._

So, it must have come as a surprise when Voldemort was blindsided by a spell from an unseen attacker. The Dark Lord, however, quickly recovered and launched a curse at the spot where the attack originated. Harry, however, had already moved by then and the spell actually hit a Death Eater, shattering the bones in his right leg.

Harry then dropped his cloak and began his attack in earnest-he was certain Voldemort could see through it anyway, and it was difficult to fight and maneuver while wearing it. The young wizard fired off a series of hexes which Voldemort easily countered.

"Come, Potter, surely you can do better than this. Pathetic after such a well executed ambush.

Harry didn't bother to answer; banter was for idiots. Besides which, the purpose of this little exercise wasn't to defeat Voldemort, it was to keep ahold of his attention, and, at this, Harry succeeded magnificently. Voldemort was becoming more and more focused on Harry and was ignoring everything around him more and more. And why shouldn't he have? Before him stood the boy who had caused him so much trouble over the years; the only one (so he believed) who could possibly defeat him. All he needed was to find an opening in Potter's volley of spells and he would make an end of him.

It shouldn't be surprising, therefore that he didn't notice Druitt teleport behind him and attach something to his back before teleporting away again. Harry, however, did notice and put the final stage of the plan into motion. Drawing a laser from within his robes, Harry replaced his hex barrage with a laser barrage and used his wand to summon his cloak to him, which, coincidently, lay not five feet from where he manipulated Voldemort into standing.

Voldemort might have been caught off guard by Harry's new choice of weapon, but he adapted instantly. Since they weren't magical, the beams were a little trickier to block than the spells had been, but not impossibly so for a wizard of his caliber. The Dark Lord was, however, totally unprepared for what happened next. As soon as the boy summoned his cloak back to himself, a bald man in black coat materialized behind him in a cloud of pink smoke. Recovering quickly, he sent a Killing curse at the pair, but it was too late; the man had already embraced Harry and disappeared. Voldemort was still wondering what was going on when the bomb Druitt had planted on him went off.

* * *

After Voldemort's "death," it hadn't taken much effort to either capture the remaining Death Eaters or send them packing. Harry stood idly in the spot where Voldemort had met his downfall. In the young wizard's hand, he jiggled a small object, a bronze-colored sphere with small crystals imbedded all over it. It was a soul-catcher, a bit of Praxian technology specially modified by Henry, and it now held Voldemort's soul sealed within. Harry had dropped along with his cloak when he began his duel with the Dark Lord. When Harry summoned the cloak back to himself, the soul-catcher had remained behind and had captured voldemort's essence after the Dark Lord's physical body had been destroyed.

"Not satisfied with how things worked out?" a voice called from behind him. Harry turned around to see Magnus walking over to him, covered with dirt and barring a few scratches.

"No, I just . . . can't believe it's over," he replied.

"It isn't," his grandmother told him. "This was just the beginning; there's still Voldemort's horcruxes to deal with, and trying to undo the mess the purebloods have made of the Ministry may take the rest of your natural life." It was unkown at this point if Harry had inheirted her longevity.

Harry sighed. "I know, but . . ." Leaving the sentence unfinished, he looked down at the object in his hand. This time, Voldemort wouldn't be coming back so easily; they'd made sure of it.

Magnus nodded. "But, it's a good start. Come on," she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, "let's go home.

Harry nodded to her, and slipped the soul-catcher into his pocket. Together, they silently turned and left the ruined battlefield.

**The End.**

* * *

Well, that's that. I hope the confrontation between Henry and Grayback turned out well. Personally, I always thought a meeting between the two of them would be more dramatic than one between Henry and Lupin. Sorry I never did anything with Christa from the last chapter, she was essentially a character whose signifigance died when I began trying to end this story which never really had much of a plot when I origionally concieved it.

Again, for those of you who wanted this story to go on longer, I'm sorry, but this is honestly farther than I thought I'd make. My challenge still stands: if you can come with a story about Harry Potter and Helen Magnus as family, please go for it. It doesn't have to be a grandmother/grandson story; it can be mother/son or a sister/brother or even lovers (although, if you go with sister/brother, you really should come up with a way to explain it, considering Magnus is 158 years old). Please send me a message if you choose to embark upon this quest, and good luck.


End file.
